


you and only you

by Homosexy



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, One Shot, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Smut, loubbie, oceanmiller, set after the film, the plot is a little bit flimsy tbh but whatever, the praise kink is quite light, this is so sinful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homosexy/pseuds/Homosexy
Summary: Her partner. So much meaning in that word, left determinedly unaddressed by both of them. Neither would bring it up first.





	you and only you

**Author's Note:**

> i finally wrote about these two. i fuckin love this film. the song thats the title of this fic is in the soundtrack and it's great. anyway yeah, this is s i n f u l. its times like this that i remember some friends from my real life follow my ao3 (hi if you're reading and also I'm sorry). But hey, I've been meaning to write loubbie (what a ship name) and I've been meaning to write some praise kink (though this is pretty light on that) so why not do both at once?? enjoy :)

Things settle down after the heist. Rose finds herself once again relevant and entirely unprepared to be so, as Daphne explains to her imploringly how to wrap the press around her little finger. That was a surprise actually. Daphne, the apparent airhead, turning out to be quite the schemer. Fortunately, it had played well into the plan and now the dust has settled, Debbie simply acts as though it was part of the plan all along; nobody else will remember that it wasn’t. She had technically considered the possibility after choosing Daphne as the target of the heist- it was in her plan B, so to speak. So really it was part of the plan all along, she explained smoothly to Lou after their somewhat impromptu meeting with Ms Kluger.

Amita lives the most modestly. She moves out, takes a holiday with her new man from Tinder, but mostly saves the money and doesn’t spend as extravagantly as say, Daphne. Though Daphne already has far too much money for anyone to spend, in around half the group’s opinion. That half consisting of Constance, Amita, Tammy and Nineball- the normal ones, as Tammy calls them. To their part, Rose, Daphne, Debbie and Lou take no offence at this distinction. Tammy herself is doing all sorts, but most of all she’s doing things for her children. Planning trips to Disney, buying them toys, making each of them a full college fund, just as Nineball’s created for her younger sister. Constance has started a youtube channel, the content of which nobody seems to fully understand, bar Nineball. They collaborate sometimes, though Lou quickly barred them from trying anymore stunts within her house. Her and Debbie’s house. 

She’d asked Debbie if she was going to move out, but Debbie had stated plainly that she saw no point when Lou’s place was so nice, and big enough for the two of them  
“What you gonna do with all that money then”  
“We’ll see. Something worthwhile”  
“I thought you planned everything _years_ in advance”  
“I take days off” Debbie had shrugged, with a vague smile

Nobody really knows what Debbie’s planning on doing next. She never talks about it, simply letting the others discuss their plans, providing anecdotes wherever she sees fit. For someone so good with people, she’s surprisingly introverted, Lou’s always found. Not that she didn’t like people, but what she did like was her own space and her own agency, and Lou had rarely seen her feel the need to join a conversation simply for the sake of it. She’s sure Debbie isn’t thinking of retiring though. No-one would blame her, after what she had pulled off, but Lou can see it still there in her eyes, the look on her face when she’s thinking. What she’s planning, she can’t grasp at yet. But it’s something. Knowing Debbie, she’ll probably never retire. 

So that just leaves Lou. She drags Debbie with her to pick out a new motorbike, despite the fact that Debbie knows nothing about motorbikes and spends the entire time pointing out bikes at random, saying things like “Now what a nice colour” or “That one’s shiny” to tease her, as Lou knew she would when she invited her along. She knew what bike she was going to buy before she even arrived; there’s just something special about walking into the dealership, having hundreds of bikes laid out in front of you and knowing that you could buy them all, if you wanted. That’s why Debbie’s there too- for Lou, this is the closing pages of the heist, so it’s only natural that her partner is there alongside her for the close.

Her partner. So much meaning in that word, left determinedly unaddressed by both of them. Neither would bring it up first.

That’s Lou’s next project. Her and Debbie have always had this easy, unspoken relationship. The number of times people have assumed they’re long-married is surely well into double digits. And Lou had always just taken it for what it was, until Debbie went to prison. Before that: until Becker. He couldn’t have had worse timing. Lou had plans,  _ plans _ for that very evening. Then Debbie had told her about a date with  _ some art dealer _ and it all went screeching, crashing downhill from there. His name still tastes overwhelmingly bitter in her mouth and when Debbie had gone to prison, she’d damn well nearly framed him herself. But she waited, because she knew it was Debbie’s to do. And now it’s done (nobody comments on the vicious edge of Lou’s voice as she mentions the news of his conviction), she’s got stuff to sort out with Debbie. Though she itches, as she always does, to let things happen. To wait for them to come to her. Debbie is too important for that, something she’s known for far longer than she’ll ever admit. And, frustrating as it is, Debbie is far too stubborn to simply come to her.

“I told you to be out by five” She narrows her eyes at Constance, Amita and Nineball, who are lounging on the sofa. Granted, it’s only quarter past, but Lou  _ is  _ the stickler for punctuality among them. Discounting Tammy, but she’s more of a worrying-about-being-late type.    
“What plans you got?” Constance asks, “Debbie ain’t back until seven thirty”   
“And?” Lou shrugs, “I need the house empty, so out”   
“Oh damn, you nervous?” Constance laughs, “Never seen that before”   
“I’m not nervous” Lou shoots back, the icy steel in her voice enough to quiet Constance. Unfortunately, Nineball is as unfazed as ever, calmly replying   
“Chill, chill, we won’t spoil your big night, just give us five”   
“I’m so confused” Amita whispers, as though Lou isn’t there and can’t hear her, “What are you on about?”   
“She’s got a big date night planned with Ocean” Constance replies, as though it’s the most obvious fact she’s ever had to spell out  
“Nah, they ain’t for real datin’. Not yet anyway” Nineball corrects   
“I am here, you know” Lou interrupts coolly, “And it’s not any of your business”   
“Oh shit!” Constance looks at Nineball with something like reverence, “You good! How do you read people like that?”  
“Simple” Nineball shrugs, “Anyway, let’s go” She folds her laptop nonchalantly, stretches a little as she gets to her feet and heads out the door with a wave   
“Sorry” Constance shoves her hands in her pockets, squaring out her shoulders, “And good luck with Ocean”   
“I hope it goes well” Amita says cheerily as she follows out the door   
“Thanks” Lou watches them leave. Curse Nineball for being so perceptive. Lou’s come to learn that she’s pretty much on a par with herself and Debbie when it comes to seeing the truth of a situation. She’s definitely in on future projects, whether hacking or not. You can never have too many eyes.

“What’s the occasion?” Debbie asks as she strolls through the door to see Lou, standing by the table in  _ that _ button up- the black sleeveless one. It’s always been Debbie’s favourite. She shucks her long black coat gracefully from her shoulders and hangs it up on the coat stand before sauntering over. On the table is a beautifully cooked meal, courtesy of Lou herself- beef wellington, potatoes dauphinoise and some kind of sauce in a fancy gravy boat Debbie didn’t even know Lou owned. She might have pinched it if she had.   
“I’ve had my motorbike road-trip, Becker’s been put away, we’ve rounded off the whole operation. Why not celebrate?” Lou opens a bottle of red wine (a very expensive one, Debbie notes) and pours it gracefully, gesturing for Debbie to sit down.   
“Are you seducing me, Ms. Miller?”  
“If you’re lucky” Lou replies, unreadable as ever

They exchange small talk over dinner. Debbie’s ambiguous about exactly what information she had travelled to collect during the day, but that’s no surprise. Until a plan’s come together, she likes to keep it to herself. It’s her version of keeping up appearances, and after so many years, it’s no issue to Lou. For her part, she tells Debbie bits and pieces about what’s been going on during the day. Daphne, having gone through a string of hook-ups in recent weeks, went on a second date that afternoon (a casual lunch) with some model whose name Lou doesn’t recall, but she thinks she’s pretty famous. Constance had asked to borrow some cornflour at 5:45am, and after receiving no reply, opted to come over, Nineball and Amita in tow before they spent the rest of the day conspiring around Nineball’s laptop  
“Can someone really _borrow_ cornflour?” Debbie inquires with a small quirk of an eyebrow  
“No” Lou laughs shortly, “Can you borrow a set of diamonds?”   
“Maybe. Depends how nicely you ask” Debbie says  
“Sure” Lou snorts, “Either way, we don’t have any”  
“What did she want it for?”  
“Didn’t ask”

Lou cleans up while Debbie lounges on the sofa, thumbing through Lou’s records until she finds some jazz she likes and puts it on, the piano lilting in after a short moment of quiet   
“Did you make me a dessert too?” She asks   
“Thought you didn’t like them” Lou replies   
“I like cheese” Debbie says, making a face of childish expectation, and Lou rolls her eyes, laughter already ghosting around her mouth   
“Well, I have other plans”    
Debbie waits for an explanation that doesn’t come   
“You’re going to keep a lady waiting?”   
“Lady, huh?” Lou looks over her shoulder to where Debbie meets her gaze over the back of the sofa. It’s playful, with an edge, “Sorry, but the dishes won’t do themselves. Give me two more minutes”   
“I don’t feel like waiting right now. I’ll do them tomorrow” Debbie offers. Lou turns around, the physical embodiment of scepticism. Debbie Ocean  _ never  _ does the dishes, but she’s eyeing Lou in complete seriousness, until;  
“Pinky swear?” she adds in a sing-song voice, and with a resignant huff, Lou dries her hands, grabs a dash of hand cream, and joins Debbie on the sofa   
“You better stick to your word. I might even have to take a photo for proof”   
“Oh god no” Debbie laughs, quiet as usual. She’s always been an enigmatic mix of mature in judgement, in intellect too (if such a thing can be said) and utterly childish in humour. Not that Lou can claim differently, after distracting Rose with those bubbles. It was Debbie’s idea; Lou’s equal amusement in carrying it out.    
“I’ll just have to catch you off-guard then” Lou shrugs, and Debbie levels a challenging stare   
“You try, we’ll see” She takes a sip of wine, “So go on. What are your  _ other plans _ ?”   
“I…” Lou hasn’t actually thought this far ahead, but she draws out the pause to fit with her usual languid rhythm of speech. If anything, Debbie becomes more ready to hear something else in the words that follow as a result, “Thought, that we could spend some quality time together”   
“Mhmm” Debbie murmurs, and it’s faint, but Lou hears something- agreement, recognition. She doesn’t have time to mull it over; once she’s softly set her wine glass down on a nearby end-table, Debbie rocks forward onto all fours and stalks her way up the sofa to lean over Lou, until they’re inches from each other, the sounds of soft piano fading into the background   
“Deb, I-”   
“So, instead of dessert...” The smile that lifts Debbie’s features in lieu of ending her sentence is killer. Lou can feel the heat, the intensity in her gaze, and it takes all of her willpower not to melt, to give in (and yet her hands have already found their way to rest on Debbie’s hips). She’s not doing this again. Not yet, at least. She inhales, slowly, deeply.   
“Deb, I’m not letting you do this again”   
“Do what?”   
“Enchant me away from talking to you about the important stuff that you feel more comfortable avoiding”   
Debbie doesn’t deny it. She runs a lock of Lou’s blonde hair between her fingers, remaining where she is over the blonde woman. Refusing to back down. Lou continues:   
“I want you, Deb”   
“You’ve got me”   
“You know that’s not what I mean” Lou sighs again, trying to find the right words, “I need you to give me more than just this. We’ve always been  _ comfortable _ , but I need to know if that’s all it is for you”   
“How long have you been thinking about this?”   
“Since you went to prison? No- earlier, when you told me about Becker the day I was going to have this very conversation with you”   
“You’re still bitter about that” Debbie observes   
“No-”   
“You deserve to be. It was a horrible, horrible mistake. I got scared, Lou”   
Lou is struck speechless for second. Debbie hadn’t so much as flinched with fear at the prospect of prison. She is, a few exceptions noted, a relatively fearless individual. To hear her admit anything else is new, even after all this time.   
“You, scared?” She asks incredulously, “Good to know you’re human, Ocean”   
“Oh, give over” Debbie huffs, but there’s affection behind the exasperation, “Yes, I got scared. I got scared of you, because nobody has ever meant so much to me” She pauses to shake her head and laugh, “And then I ran away, like a fucking idiot”   
“Agreed. Why would you run from me?” Lou smirks, and Debbie groans, but smiles along nonetheless. She knows Lou is right; she was crazy to do it. She’s known that at least since they locked eyes over the road outside the Met Gala, if not longer.   
“So,“ The smile is back, and Lou lets herself be drawn in now, lets herself be lost in Debbie, because she knows she can, “Are you going to seduce me  _ now _ ?”

She doesn’t give Debbie even a second longer to keep looking smug about the effect she’s wrought on her, pulling her closer instead and crashing their mouths together. It’s exquisite. This had happened the odd time before- was bound to, really- but now, knowing that Debbie is  _ hers _ , Lou is somehow even more entranced by the feeling of Debbie’s lips on hers, the feeling of Debbie’s skin under her hands. She moves them for a second, just to smoothly push herself further upright, allowing Debbie to settle in her lap. It’s wonderfully familiar as Debbie’s thumb sweeps slowly below her jaw, and Lou allows her hands to settle back onto Debbie’s hips. She’s back to her modus operandi now- sitting back and waiting for Debbie to come to her. When it comes to this, Lou knows she will, knows it won’t be long before she reaches for the first button of Lou’s shirt and teases it open, before making her way through the rest. It’s not in Debbie’s nature to push for things, or to rush them, and indeed she unbuttons Lou’s shirt at a very even pace next to the pounding of her pulse. But even the action of doing that is more than she would ever give anyone else, and Lou knows it.

“I’ll take that as a yes” Debbie says, half-whispering, the moment Lou stops kissing her to start paying attention to her neck instead   
“I suppose”  Lou muses between the kisses she’s planting above Debbie’s collarbones, “If you’ve been good”   
Debbie presses forward a little; Lou’s pleased to find those particular words still have that effect on her. She bites, gently at first, testing. Debbie is never loud, but Lou knows how she responds to what she likes. Pleased by the quiet exhales she’s able to draw, she traces a path over Debbie’s collarbones to dot her shoulder with yet more kisses. One of Debbie’s hands pulls at her hair slightly, and Lou hisses with satisfaction.   
“Impatient, are we?”   
“You’re the one going slow” Debbie asserts in a low voice   
“I suppose I’d better something about that” Lou grins, the smile spreading languidly across her features.  
  
Debbie rolls her hips steadily, forehead resting against Lou’s own, eyes closed. She looks stunning, breathing ragged and heavy, as she grinds down onto the strap-on. Her hands rest tightly on Lou’s shoulders, Lou’s own on her hips, guiding her movements. All the while, Lou is murmuring to her, her words undoing Debbie almost as much as the feeling every time she rocks her hips back down onto Lou’s own, taking the strap-on fully until she bottoms out, over and over.   
“That’s it Deb. Fuck, you’re beautiful” Lou tells her, “You’re so hot when you ride me like this”  
Debbie hums quietly in response, her eyebrows pinching together as she starts to gyrate a little faster. It’s almost a breath rather than a whisper, but Lou just about hears her say   
“I’m close”   
“Good girl” Lou presses a kiss to her cheek and Debbie chases her lips, sighing a little when their mouths finally meet. She can’t hold the kiss for long, small sharp exhales cutting it off, but she’s unashamedly wanton, kissing Lou almost messily before she rolls her hips to find  _ just  _ the right angle, and abruptly away as she moans, breathy and quiet. Lou lavishes her neck with a few kisses while her head is tipped back, before asking   
“Are you going to come for me?” In a low voice. Debbie nods quickly, and Lou debates making her ask for permission. But she doesn’t want to wait, or make Debbie wait for that matter, after so long. They can get to that some other time. Instead, she replies “That’s right, good girl” and watches in awe as Debbie starts to shake a little, her grip on Lou’s shoulders tightening as the rolling of her hips loses its even rhythm, becoming more erratic. Lou keeps murmuring to her, coaxing her, telling her how _good_ she is, until Debbie’s body stiffens and she pushes down hard onto Lou’s strap-on. Only now does Lou move, gently rocking her hips to guide Debbie through her orgasm. After several seconds, her body relaxes and Lou brings her own motions to a halt. Slowly, Debbie opens her eyes   
“I missed that” She says breathlessly, “God, I missed you”. She’s not just talking about her stint in prison, and Lou knows.    
“I missed you too” She kisses Debbie softly, “I missed watching you ride me like that. You’re so beautiful Deb”   
“You make me feel beautiful” Debbie holds Lou’s gaze for a few seconds, both of them smiling gently. Then she climbs off of the strap-on, which, slick with her, slides out smoothly. She takes a moment to neaten her hair, moving a few haphazard strands away from her face before tugging at the strap around Lou’s hips with one finger, “Take it off. Let me make you feel good”   
“I love you” Lou says, as she stands up and steps out the harness before pulling the condom off of the strap-on and tossing it into the bin.   
“I love you too” Debbie replies, looking at Lou with warmth that’s reserved for her and no-one else. She stands up, ignoring her shaky legs, and takes Lou’s hands in hers to pull her in close and kiss her again. 

 

“So,” Debbie says, the gentle glow of the morning light, muted by the curtains, washing over the room, “I have a proposition for you”   
“Oh?” Lou asks, shifting in the bed to kiss Debbie’s cheek, before moving herself to lie more comfortably   
“The information I’ve been following up. It’s about Danny”   
“He’s not dead then?”   
“Who knows?” Debbie admits, “But I’ve found Rusty. If anyone knows, it’ll be him”   
“Where’s Rusty then?”   
“Bremen, supposedly. I’m almost certain now that he is. So I’m gonna go find him”   
“And what if Danny really is dead?” Lou asks. She’d only met the man a few times, but she’d liked him   
“Then he is” Debbie says simply, “And we’ll begin our holiday in Italy sooner. Come with me?”   
Lou smiles. Worried as she has been about how Debbie’s dealt with the news of her brother’s death, it seems she didn’t need to.   
“Always”


End file.
